I love sourdough. I'm a Monkey Wrangler. Any questions?
No really, I bake a lot of bready products, brew many different things and love just about anything fermented. And local. And I love urban gardening. Did I mention I have two small children, and that I tend them at home while the wife is away at work?
It's a chronicle of all that.

Monday, February 28, 2011

orange eggs, no ham

A few weekends ago we went and visited my in-laws. Arriving a bit before noon, Grandma G told the kids that her three young hens had recently begun laying eggs. The kids followed her outside to the hen's favored laying spots, didn't find any eggs immediately, then proceeded to play around the nesting sites until the eggs magically showed up. A few hours later, after much reminding that the hens didn't want to be bothered during their efforts, followed by some quiet time inside, the hens laid their gems. The kids got to collect their first farm fresh eggs, rushed inside like it was easter, then following instructions, wrote the date on them. The following day, about mid-morning (after not nearly so much reminding about disturbing the hens), they collected three more. "Mommy, feel this egg I just got. Its still warm!"

We were lucky enough to bring a few home. Quite possibly the tastiest damn eggs I have ever had, they had the darkest yolks I've ever seen. I had suspected as much cooking them up "on the farm" but when I fried them up at home in my orange handled skillet, it just begged a picture for comparison. And I am positive this was one of the paler ones!

I can't wait to eat a few more of these beauties. Until then, I'll be dreaming of my own little urben homested* chickens right here on oaktown.

*Apparently spelling this correctly will get you in trouble these days, as some folks have recently trademarked this term and a few others, and it is now no longer part of the modern, well-intentioned, ever-growing vernacular of the movement! Hell, maybe I'll get a reminder for even using a poor substitute.

Ma: MmmMmmMmmmm.....just like you said: reminds me of how grandma would cut a hole in her bread, crack an egg into it and fry it up in a buttery pan.

Rev: Exactomundo. I'm guessing that if they ate as much porky goodness as you do, they'd see things a bit differently.

Sammie: Thanks for dropping by! I hear chickens are big up in rainy Seattle so I'm a bit surprised to hear they are the darkest you've seen. Maybe you can trade some of that sweet craftwork or cookies of yours for some eggs.